Stone Circle Heavy are the winds from the east, they have come to see

@Gunnar @Tauris @Taktuq all welcome!! <333

Kvarsheim.
Reverie could hardly contain herself when the tall stones became visible in the distance. The only thing that kept her from running past the border calling for @Bjarna and Gunnar was her daughter; @Blossom was far too old to be carried now, or she might have swept her into her arms and run all the same.
But she could be patient. She'd waited this long to see them, hadn't she? Reverie glanced around anxiously as they approached the outskirts of the territory, noting with a hint of alarm that Bjarna's scent was not readily apparent. Perhaps she was sick, confined somewhere within the territory? She let herself cling to that thought for now.
Reverie looked next to @Boone, briefly making eye contact before she turned and called for her family — and for Tauris, whose scent she was unsurprised to find threaded among the borders, though faintly.

Gunnar was even slower than he had been. But he headed towards the borders all the same.

Unsure if he was as steady as he felt. His age was taking him quicker than he'd like. In part to the now cooler mornings and evenings he was sure. The old joints just weren't what they used to be.

Torn halfling ear swiveled on scar tissue as he headed towards a face he thought he knew and then he did.

Oh! Reverie. So good to see your face!

Anyone is still welcome, I know Tauris just gave birth so Rev will probably come to her if she can't join this one <3

Reverie waited patiently, and after a time, her adoptive father appeared. The sight of him lit her with excitement, tail waving so vigorously that her whole body wiggled with it. Gunnar! She cried out, running thoughtlessly to hug him.
Oh, I missed you, Reverie confessed breathlessly, then abruptly remembered her daughter. Oh! Gunnar, um - this is - this is my daughter, Blossom. Where's Bjarna? She frowned, glancing past Gunnar even as she led him closer to meet Blossom. More than anything, she wanted her sister here; she had a feeling that Bjarna would adore her daughter as much as Reverie herself did.

Reverie, in flesh and fur.

She believed the voice singing on that first september day was imagined, a trick of wind distorted as it passed through her hollow. She’d risen anyway in her state of half-wake from a sleepless war fought with fitful children and fighting the breeze that tried its hardest to riffle through her ashen mattes.

“Reverie?” She breathes, face finding disbelief, that point of age that sticks around beneath the eye once a woman becomes a mother deepening. She looks to the man and the little golden child who was scarcely familiar now, “Lestan? Blossom…” They all look healthy.

She wrenches the golden girl into her arms. Joy, and all the time she’d ever had for anything.

The old man caught her as she ran a smile on his gace and held her tightly. Thr gilden girl behind her, to the little onw he offered a smile. Eyes crinkling.

Though he frowned when she asked ofBjarna.

She has gone on a journey and not returned yet.i hope where ever she is she is safe.

He moved as Tauria arrived to allow the woman a hug for reverie.

She didn't understand.
Not at first. Reverie blinked at Gunnar, denying the coldness settling over her shoulders, her chest, even as some part of her began to crumble in realization. She - she's coming back soon, right? Her voice trembled and broke on the last word, and then her eyes went wide as she suddenly understood —
Bjarna was gone.
Gone, and it was the taste of ash in her mouth; it was that day in the snow all over again, alone, and it was denial, denial. She wanted to scream that he was wrong, lying, how could he be so cruel? But she looked at him and she knew. Her sister; the starlit girl among the stones, the one who had found her lost and afraid, the one who had promised without any words at all that she would never again be alone, and Reverie had believed her.
Bjarna was gone, and she was alone.

And then it was Tauris;
A strangled little cry slipped from her and Reverie abruptly began to sob. She clung to her silverfire sister, not mindful in this moment of the ways she had changed, the scents of motherhood and mateship upon her. Hadn't they both changed? Hadn't the world changed? Tauris, She cried, feeling dizzy, overwhelmed with so many conflicting emotions. Then Lestan's name fell upon her as if she'd been struck, and she stilled and then began to stammer, N-no, this is - this is Boone, um, Lestan is - Her voice cracked again and dropped to a whisper.
He's gone, Reverie choked on the word and started to sob again, burying her face in Tauris's fur. Her sister. Her husband. Her heart, always scattering to the wind.

can just be a cameo!

He wasn't entirely sure where Reverie had dragged him this time around. Grassland, lots of it; the arch of hills and tall, intimidating stones just in the distance. A well-marked border ebbed at Boone's nerves, and so for a while, he stood back. He wouldn't impose himself, not here.
And so he sniffed around, for a while, a flush of birds that came whirling from the tallgrass. He'd been content with watching them while Reverie and little Blossom spoke with whoever they sought. Family, old friends, it seemed; Goo-nar, some girl named Toe-riss, and... Bee-yarn-uh. Sure, whatever;
Until he heard the weeping, and a different name not mentioned previously from one of the pack's womenfolk: Lestan.
His head whips around like a deer staring into headlights, and his concern is imminent. He takes a trudging step closer before he stops with a frown. Comfort, his instinct said, peel Reverie away and whisk her somewhere else, but something told him that was not his place here.

Those yellow eyes go distant, sleeving with tears and that terrible truth. Gone.

The nornir holds her closer. The press of Reverie made her real, she feared if she let go she would be lost to her again. She willed this embrace to keep that emerging mist from swallowing her whole. It never seemed far from her heels.

“Will you stay?” A voice in her throat coaxes. Over Reverie’s shoulder her eyes find the man named Boone. He was the type of massive figure who would have frightened her in the wilds. But his ruffled stance and blatant concern for Reverie appealed to her heart, “all of you.”

“There’s plenty to eat. Let’s find you a place to rest.” She pulls back to look into her friend’s face.

Gunnar stood then and nodded at them. He would leave to let Tauris care for them.

I'll find you a place to sleep for the time being until you get aquainted with the pack lands again. Please remember the rocks are sacred our loved ones reat there.

This was more for the man Boone than Reverie.

In Tauris's embrace she found some semblance of peace; she could have stayed there forever, she thought, but the world would not wait for her. It never did. I - Her eyes flicked from Tauris to Gunnar, then to Boone before she responded. Y-yes, at - at least for the night. I - I don't know if... I mean - I should talk to Boone first. About staying longer.
But I'll stay close no matter what, I promise. I - I don't want to be gone like that again, She pressed her nose to Tauris's cheek, casting a grateful glance at Gunnar. Thank you. Both of you. Kvarsheim; home. She was home again, at least for now.

As he stood there like some amorphous fifth wheel, the girl — who he supposed was Toe-riss — asks if they'll stay. Stay as in stay? After what happened with the Isle, admittedly, Boone grew apprehensive, as nice as these folks seemed.
He was a stranger here. They knew Reverie, somehow; welcomed her with strong arms and a familial embrace, dried the tears that now coated her cheeks, and all he could do was stand there as the shimmer of early Autumn brushed his back. And Lestan. He couldn't help but be curious about that name as it spun around in his mind like a whirlwind. He was somebody, somebody—
For the night. Yes, for the night; that, he at least felt he owed her, and he gives the ghost of a nod to his wayward — well, whatever she was to him. 
The man Goo-nar mutters something about sacred stones and buried souls long gone. Do your loved ones like flowers? his voice cracks before he clears the lump that swells in his throat. S'the least I could do, for, um, lettin' me tag along.

She stole a moment of delight for herself that they might stay and be a family. She and Reverie and Taktuq would be proper sisters, raising their children together, coursing the highlands, trading amusing stories of their men, and at night they would come together and thank the ancient stones for the life they lived. And the storms would pass over Reverie, the strength of their love would be inaccessible.

“That’s kind of you,” she spoke to Boone’s offer, tail unfurling in a sway and a little leap that beckoned them into the packlands.

“Come, eat first. We have a lot to catch up on,” her eye glisters. She wanted Reverie to meet her children, she wanted her to meet Fig.

Reverie, too, was swept away in thoughts of making her home at Kvarsheim once again. Their children would grow as siblings and know no shortage of love; they would settle, truly, two girls who had once loved nothing more than the taste of freedom, and they would be happy; perhaps even Bjarna would return and they would be whole again, all of them. Then she glanced at Boone and saw his withdrawal, his quiet melancholy.
She nosed Tauris's cheek a bit apologetically, and pulled away to comfort him with a brush of her muzzle along his cheek. Come on, Reverie invited him along softly, pulling Blossom close to her. She looked to Tauris and smiled gently, waiting for her to lead the way, but the hope in her was withering. Reverie did not want to leave them again; her family, her home, the last remnants of her wandering heart.
But she knew that she would.